The Ship of Dreams
by extremelyloud
Summary: It's thirteen years after the strike, Racetrack finds some luck and is able to take his buddies; Blink, Spot and Skittery to see the great land of Europe.  They go home on the ship of dreams - The Titanic.   Not a crossover, it's about the real ship.
1. An Unlucky Hand

**Author's Note: **The first part is loosely based off of the 1997 film, _Titanic_, where Jack wins the tickets to board. I do not own the newsies, the ship or film Titanic, or any historical figures. This is in Racetrack Higgin's POV.

_I. Welcome to New York_

It had been thirteen years since the strike, and damn, thinkin' back on it, I certainly felt old den. I was twenty-seven years old and everyone that knew me durin da strike and knew me den said I ain't changed a bit. I still smoked like a chimney and gambled like a man that didn't got any limits. I was still poor as ever. Once I turned eighteen, four years after the strike, I got the talk from Kloppman. He said I oughta start lookin' for work elsewhere, but I'd seen it coming. Skittery had left when he turned eighteen, a year earlier, to be a bartender. Spot Conlon worked in a factory, one of the most dangerous jobs available. Kid Blink went off to work in the coal mines in West Virginia. He'd met a girl whose daddy was into that type of business and set him up with a job. Crutchy couldn't get no job, so Kloppman let him stay a few extra years. Eventually, he left with his pride. We found him dead on the streets, probably starved to death. We all knew there wasn't no way Crutchy would get a job. Old Jacky boy married Sarah and they left for Santa Fe three years after the strike, and well, everyone else just sort of moved on. Nobody who worked as a Newsie in 1899 works there now. I never knew any of 'em.

I started working as a clean up sort of guy at the Sheepshead. I hit the jack pot while bettin' with one of the customers – fifty bucks, I guessed the guy was a real rich stiff. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost. I didn't have fifty bucks to my name, but see, I found out things were rigged. I was behind the scenes, and even if I couldn't guess, well, I knew who would win. Most of the time I was okay with guessing, but when I met a guy with a box seat who felt like betting with an urchin, well, dear me, I would've been happy to go talk to the guys in the back.

So I left work early that day, goin' over to the bar where Skittery worked. Skittery, Spot and I had become pretty close over the years. If my math is correct, Skittery and Spot would be twenty-nine None of us ever got married. Nah, I never believed in divorce, being Catholic myself, and knew I'd never be able to support a lady or even love one lady for the rest of her life or my life, at least that's what I thought. Spot wasn't able to keep just one woman. No matter how hard she tried, one woman could not please the King of Brooklyn, the man who had shot up in height and had always been quite the smooth talker. Skittery, well, nobody ever knew why Skittery didn't get married. Spot and I often joked he had everything; book smarts, good looks, charm, but for some reason he chose to remain alone and rent out a three bedroom apartment with us bachelors.

After work, Spot came in and we all drank. I broke the news to them about my winnings. Normally, this would mean about three or four months of rent. But I told them something I've been meaning to for awhile. "We ain't old, guys, you'se knows dat. But we're livin' in a class where people like us... people of our wealth, what have you, don't live passed forty. I don't want ta say all I did my whole life was sit around in New York, bein' a workin' dog. So I gots a proposition for you." And I laid it out to them. Why don't we use the money to make our way in Europe? I could buy cheap ship tickets for the three of us and we'd have some extra cash. They seemed intrigued. Who didn't want to go to Europe? All the rich stiffs did it, but, then again, they had jobs here. They'd have to think about it over night.

_II. And the Results are in_

So the boys decided on goin' with me. I won't tell you the details, but it took about a week. I was booking our tickets when I hear a voice from the past. You don't just forget that voice. I whipped my head around. No, it couldn't be. It was, though. Kid Blink looked taller than ever, probably reaching six foot four. Me? I'd only grown to about five foot ten since the strike, but it's pretty respectable. We were polar opposites, Blink and I. Guess he wasn't not a kid no more, huh? Well, he had this nice, clean looking sandy brown hair. I had slicked back brown hair that was often mistaken for black. I did have the muscles where he didn't, I will admit. "Blink! What the hell are you'se doin' here anyway?" Was what I asked him.

"Elizabeth was a bitch, I just had to get out, her daddy was bossin' me around like a dog. I couldn't stand it no more so I filed for divorce. It's all said and done." Blink didn't seem too upset, but he was such an upbeat fella that not many people could tell when he was. I, for one, could tell that nobody worked for nine years on a marriage they didn't want. But I didn't say anything. Blink wouldn't have liked that.

"Well, I gots a proposition for you'se, Blink." And so I laid it out for him, and unlike my buddies, he seemed eager. I booked four passages instead of three, and waited out another week until I could leave this god forsaken city. Maybe I'd be able to see Italy. Unfortunately, bein' an orphan, I didn't really know if I'd get to see any of my relatives, on account of the fact that I didn't know 'em. Higgins, of course, that's the British side of me. My pa was an Englishman, you see. But enough about my parents.

We boarded some giant ship called SS something, and stayed in a room with several other men. It smelled like shit, probably because the bathroom was difficult to find and some people just shit there. Spot and Skittery were starting to doubt their decision, but Blink and I remained hopeful. Finally, we got off on a port in Great Britain. I was on new land.

_III. The Here and the Now_

But that was ages ago. We boarded on January and now it's the eleventh of April, I think. That's what the boy's ticket to my left says. See, the boys and I were ready to go back to the good old U.S.A after four months. We lived in Europe, saw the sites, lived like rich men and even found some part time work so we could keep it up. We had twenty bucks in each of our pockets, and we were betting everything we owned. Spot put down his cash, Kid Blink put down a watch his ex wife had given him as a wedding gift – real expensive. Skittery had put down some silk scarf or some shit some lady had given him in France – real silk, the kind that could be sold off. I had put down everything on me. There were four of them and four of us, but only two of us played. I was chosen from our side, and they chose a big, hulking guy whose accent I did not recognize, to play for what was at stake. See, they set down some tickets; four exactly; for the RMS Titanic. It was the greatest ship in the world, so I heard, and I wanted to be on it. There was some loose cash here and there – probably adding up to one hundred all together, but at the time I really wanted the tickets. Those tickets were our way home on luxury.

When the hulking guy sets down his hand, he smiled. I never did that. It's a curse, every time I did I ended up losing. So I kept my poker face on as he set down his hand. It was no good. How would I have beat a full house? "Well, dis ain't good boys." I told my friends, looking at them sadly. This I distinctly remember, because I crack myself up. "For dese poor fuckin' bastards because I got a straight flush!" I slammed down my cards and collected everything, taking Skittery's hat to get it all in. Spot grabs the tickets and we run out of the place, each of us whooped and Blink threw the watch back at them. "A consolation prize!" he laughed. Four men were standing in line to board the ship of dreams. We were going to have an amazing time on this ship, the three of us, and maybe things would change for us by the time we got home, I hoped. See, if I could take anything back, it would be meeting those four men and playing poker for some lousy tickets. We could have gone on any other ship... if it hadn't been for my luck.


	2. Playing Dress Up

**Author's Note:** I don't own the newsies, I don't own the titanic (wow, I'd certainly feel like shit if I did), and I don't own any historical figures. I'm sure some of you, who've read this, notice I've edited my writing to be a little more consistent. Reviews do help! This is in Spot's POV.

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_My Exploration_

The Titanic was different than the first ship we'd been on. You don't get how great it was, I guess you'd have to be there to know. Before we'd had to sleep, eat, and shit with a bunch of men. I'm sure that's how the women did it, too. But these tickets were top drawer, ain't that what the rich stiffs say? There were two bunk beds with a wash bin between them – underneath the mattresses, you could pull out a drawer and put your clothes in. Even though we didn't have much, we all put our things away in it. I, obviously, called top bunk. The wood was amazing, I couldn't believe I actually had a bed to sleep in. Then, when I decided to go on a walk around the decks, I heard some rich stiffs who were walking their dogs – apparently they're allowed here but we ain't allowed up there, ain't that shitty? - that this was the greatest ship in the world, unsinkable, and even had good accommodations for 'steerage'. It made me feel like a cow, honestly. I'm not sure why, but that's how my mind linked it.

The third class rooms even had electricity and heat. Damn, I remembered when oil was used. Still, I couldn't afford anything but oil, and damn if I could afford heat! This ship was fine, and apparently unsinkable. Of course, after I stopped being a newsie I stopped paying attention to the papes. It was all shit anyway, so I guess I'd never heard of a ship sinkin'. Fuck it, there were so many pretty women. Women dressed up like princesses. Maybe that's what they wish they were. I couldn't even tell the difference between first and second class passengers. I heard the first class passengers put their maids, cooks, chauffeurs, whatever the fuck they obviously needed while on vacation – I crack myself up – in second class. Of course the rich always want their people – servants - to be in second place to them.

But we were the worst. We couldn't even be seen by them, that much was made clear. I didn't really care, anyway, because at night the party was fun. I imagined they'd all be like that. The beer was free and ladies were willing to dance with anyone as long as they didn't have a wedding band on their finger. I had a good night that night, dancing in the latest fashions with some younger woman. When I danced with a seventeen year old girl, about that, anyway, I saw myself and had to leave. Twenty-eight years old... How did I get so damn old? I remembered when I was her age I was running Brooklyn. Then, one day, I was about twenty around then, I was overthrown. It was a mutiny. They told me I was too old, beat the shit out of me when I put up a fight and put a new leader on the throne. He was fourteen years old, I guess his youth made him better than me. They even took my cane, I swore I'd kill them. One night I soaked each and every one of them. I got my revenge, as ever. But I didn't get the throne back. I didn't want it no more, if that's how life would have been.

Kid Blink didn't talk much. It was odd, because about nine years ago Kid Blink wouldn't shut up about how much he loved this dame Elizabeth and how spiffy his opportunity was going to be in West Virginia. That was where the money was at, he insisted. When I laughed at him later in our tour of Europe, asking him where all the money had gone, I nearly got punched in the face. Nobody had witnessed it, and I let it slide. Maybe that had been a low blow. I was able to control my temper a little more as I aged. But I never lost that smart mouth. Everyone certainly was changing, though. Skittery had me puzzled. I swore I knew people really well, but Skittery was difficult. He was an attractive male, had plenty of opportunity with women, didn't seem the player sort, but had never formed any relationship or marriage. It made sense for myself and Race to be single; who would want to marry a gambler who would surely gamble his family out of their home, and who would want a guy who'd seen the inside of a jail... ten too many times? Skittery just seemed like the sappy, perfect husband who would be loyal and take care of his family. But nobody had figured him out after all these years. I had stopped trying about five years ago.

When I walked the decks of the beautiful ship I couldn't help but notice how amazing it was. Even the third class decks were perfectly polished. Sure, there was shit on the decks from the first class passengers' dogs, it wasn't as clean as it could be, and he was sure the first class decks were better kept and better furnished. The smoking room had real leather and real wood with fancy-smancy cigars offered and even some books. We were able to go to church services if they wished, and there were common rooms where parties were held during the night or women would sew during the day. I was so glad that we'd gotten this for free. If we hadn't, we'd be stuck on a ship like the first one. I'd heard someone even died in third class, up to five people from disease. It was much better for one's health to board this ship as a third class passenger, or at least, that's what I thought.

Racetrack spent most of his time betting with gentlemen in the bar area. This wasn't unusual. Kid Blink spent his time playing games with the other men, or drinking, or making friends who he would never meet again. He was flirting with the ladies and having a good time. Skittery, the most boring of them all, read old books that seemed to be passed down from old ships – possibly from old first class libraries. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my good old friend from the back of the shirt. "We're goin' out tonight. It's your birthday, right?" I asked. How had I remembered that? It was kind of embarrassing. I was just becoming better friends with him, I supposed. "We'll drink tonight. And we'll see how the first class really live." I grinned, smirking at Skittery.

Skittery seemed hesitant, but we would be going either way. Brooklyn, who I would always be until the day I die, said so.

_II. The Dancing, the Party, and First Class_

Skittery was boring as fuck, even if it was his birthday. I tried to get him to drink, but the poor bastard just wanted to return to the room. Obviously, I told him no, and we made our way through the halls. I checked nearly every gate to see if it might be unlocked, but to no avail. Until the last one, just as I was giving up hope, it seemed someone left a key in the lock. Not many people would have noticed, but I always had a good eye. I unlocked the door myself, and Skittery and I entered. I laughed as he protested, grabbing his wrist as we went through the plush halls. The paint smelled so fresh; nasty, that was. We passed the dining room, which everyone seemed to be in. They were all beautifully dressed in things I couldn't afford in a year's wages at the factory.

I tried people's rooms, and finally had luck. One man's room was open. It had a huge bed, grand curtains, all that shit. It even had its own bathroom. Skittery paced nervously as I washed up in the rich man's bathtub, I hadn't taken a bath in ages and wasn't about to use a communal one. There were Russians here, and you know what they say about Russians. Damned diseased, cold bastards. And the damn Asians, too. But that's another story. I dressed in the fancy man's button up shirt and pants – they fit pretty well, I might add. Then I stared at myself in the mirror. I was still as handsome as ever, as I must say. I grew about three inches, reaching about five foot seven at this point. I'd come to the understanding that I'd always be short, or on the shorter end. My face could've used a shave, but I didn't own a razor and I wasn't so comfortable standing here that I'd use the man who owned the room's razor. Skittery was too nervous, as his name would suggest, anyway.

"You don't want to put on somethin' nice?" I asked him tauntingly, grinning. He was probably a bit too tall for it, and when he shook his head, I shrugged. I grabbed a twenty note that had been left in one of the drawers – yeah, I was snooping – and we left. This time we actually saw people. They looked at Skittery oddly but I was fine, apparently. Maybe I could have been one of them. And I decided to take advantage of that. I convinced Skittery to put on a suit and tie and all that shit, and eventually sat in the dining room with the rest of the passengers. See, it was the first night after everyone had boarded so it was easy. I told everyone I was new money – the oil company, see. I knew enough about it to go on and on, and they found me fascinating. I thought this pretty little thing might have been interested in me, but the whole time, she was staring at Skittery. Who would've known?


	3. Blink is Back

**Author's Note:** I do not own the newsies, the titanic, or any historical figures. This will be told in the point of view of Kid Blink. I know due to Spot's account I made the timing super confusing but today is the 11th of April and it's their first night on the Titanic. I hope everything is making sense. The last stop the ship made (first to England, then to France, and finally to Ireland) was Queenstown, Ireland on 11 April. For those of you who don't know the Titanic (have you been living under a rock? Haha, just joking) it sunk on 15 April at 2:00-ish in the morning. 2:20am apparently. So I really messed up with timing in Spot's Chapter (last chapter) and I will just ask for your forgiveness.

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_My Story  
><em>  
>They called me Blink then, on account of the fact that I was no longer a kid. I turned thirty not too long ago, the oldest of them all. Thirteen years ago, that seemed like a huge difference. I was seventeen and they were fourteen or fifteen! But now it doesn't really matter. What's the difference between twenty-seven and thirty, anyhow? Not much. So boarding the ship, well, everyone might tell you it was the worst thing they did. Even them pretty ladies sitting in their life boats all cozy while everyone went down in the ship. Even them damn men that protested against letting their wives on the life boats because the ship <em>could not sink<em>. I heard Mr. Andrews himself say the ship was sinking. Guess he wasn't paying no attention to the likes of me when he said it; said he didn't want to cause an uproar. But this is my story, my events of the four days spent on the Titanic. And you know what? I am damn happy I took this trip to Europe, even boarding the ship damned by God himself isn't some thing I would take back. Maybe I would have spared my friends, though.

It was amazing when we got to the rooms. I'd never slept in a finer bed. The mattresses weren't made out of hay like they were in the old lodging house, or as in my lovely ex-wife's bed. Yeah, it was her bed, I might've been the man but she had the bigger pair of balls. These mattresses had springs. See, I'd heard of that sort of thing but thought it was only for the rich. Then there was some soft stuff on top so I couldn't feel the springs. I slept in the bed as soon as I got in it, tired from the full day of gambling and anticipation. I really thought Race was the luckiest man in the world. He always won, that never changed. Spot still had something intimidating about him, and still had his sense of childish fun. Skittery was the one who I could see no change in. He was quiet as ever, always reading in the third class lounge which had a book shelf. I saw Spot take him away, and that was the last I saw of him the night we boarded the Titanic, well, until bed time, of course.

I guess you all is wonderin' how I got myself divorced. I know what you're thinking; it's a sin against God, how would your mama feel about it, Blink? Well, my mama is dead and has been for a long time, so I ain't got the luxury of knowin' how she'd feel. I assume she'd want me to be happy, so I guess I would've made her proud. I met her when I was eighteen, just about to leave. I thought I had no place to go and here was this broad from West Virginia. Her accent was charming, really, and she was gorgeous in her bright yellow dress and pearls. Yeah, I remember what she was wearing. I remember her fair hair braided all nice and proper, and how clean she looked. We went out for the few dates and I asked her to marry me. She said she would, if her daddy consented. So I set off to West Virginia. To be honest with you, I didn't even know where it was or how far away it was from New York. I thought it might be near California, isn't that somewhere in the middle of the country? Well, anyway, yeah, that's what happened. Her daddy gave us permission and we got hitched.

So she got pregnant right away and lost the baby all within three months. We were devastated, and that's when the pretty little doll face turned devil. Her daddy had always pushed me hard to work in the mines until I thought I would fall asleep. Once I almost died in those mines, some times I _would_ fall asleep and someone would, thankfully, wake me. Her daddy didn't like me much for some reason, so I never really got why he let me marry his most precious daughter. He had about eight kids anyway, so I figured he wouldn't care about just one. He was annoyed with me that I didn't know my real name – I came when I was five to the lodgings and everyone just called me Kid Blink. He started calling me William Jacobson, and so did everyone else in the town. When Elizabeth got pregnant the second time, she kept it with her for six months. Then, while doing her chores, she slipped and fell down the steps. That's what she says, anyway. I don't want to be calling her a liar, but, I didn't see no bruises on her anywhere else. Her daddy blamed me then, and that's when things got rough.

By time we'd been married six years and we'd conceived five children – all to be lost – she started getting abusive. First it was just emotionally. She'd pick at my flaws and try and hurt my feelings. Then, she'd just start beating the shit out of me. I couldn't do nothin'. I'm not sayin' a weak little southern dame could hurt me like her, but once you get punched in the wrong places after working twelve hours a day, it can really hurt. This went on for two more years, before I got fed up. I punched her square in the face. Her nose started bleeding and I knew I could either leave or her daddy would round up all the people he could to kill me. I don't know what made me punch a girl, what made me behave like that. For this, I will always be sorry. I packed up everything I had and took as much money as I could. It wasn't much – mainly it was in the bank, and I didn't have the time to get there before she got her daddy involved. I ran to the first train I could catch heading for Manhattan. I left William Jacobson behind and filed for divorce up in New York. She gladly signed, and she kept everything. I got letters from her daddy, threatening letters, but... I didn't care. I was out of those terrible people's lives, and I would never speak about it to my friends.

_Now, Onto the Titanic_

So the ship was beautiful. The third class passenger area was even great, but I did feel like a caged bear. I was stuck within these wooden paneled walls that sometimes changed to plain white if the White Star Line felt that was what would look best. The carpet was the richest I'd ever felt, little did I know the first class had everything better than I could have possibly. There was one time where I was allowed up on deck with the first class passengers and the second class passengers. This was during the service the Captain would perform – church service. I went on this day to ask for forgiveness for my sins. I spoke to the second class Priest. He wasn't of my religion – I guess I'm a protestant, not a catholic – but he'd do. I told him about my sins and he forgave me and asked God to forgive me. Things were a lot nicer here. There was carpeting I swear I could feel through my shoes and every wall was white and perfect. The staircase was the most beautiful of them all. It had red carpeting with fine wood railings. There was a clock at the top, a chandelier once you got down a little further. Then someone grabbed my shoulder, I turned around, a little pissed off.

"Sir, are you finished speaking with the priest and hearing the church services?" A man with a British accent asked me. I'd never get over how funny they sounded.

"Uh... yeah." Was all I said, probably affirming to him that I was the idiotic buffoon he had pegged me for in the first place. But he spoke to me as if I mattered, which was nice.

"Then I will have to ask you to join your fellow third class passengers below, sir, if you would not mind. If you have trouble finding where to go I will lead you." he offered generously. He probably thought I couldn't read the signs, and I'd like to state, I can.

"No, thanks, I know where to go." I said. Did you notice I lost my young, tough guy New York accent? You can thank West Virginia for that. I know how to talk proper-like, but I don't got that nasty accent of the West Virginians that I once found endearing in my wife. I guess she sort of made me hate it. Well, anyway, I left like he told me to, wishing there was some way for me to see what the other half lived like. What did they have for fun? Well, I guess I'd never know.

_Partying Third Class Style_

That night there was a party. The third class passengers gathered in the common room but it all seemed changed. Women and men were drunk, men had their arms slung around the women that were theirs and single ladies wandered all over the place, seeking someone to dance with as if they were men! It was great fun, being asked to dance by ladies. From what I'm told, even without my eye, I'm a pretty handsome fellow. I never made an opinion of this, though. I wasn't the sort of guy who looked in the mirror, wondering if I attracted girls or not. I always just _did_. Once, when Elizabeth wasn't a bitch and I called her Lizzie, she told me that's how it ought to be. You ought to be humble, and that's what makes someone attractive. But I'm digressing, ain't I?

This beautiful girl who couldn't be more than twenty five asked me to dance. "You ain't married, miss? I don't see how a stunner like you don't have a ring on that pretty little finger of yours." Did I mention I'm a smooth talker?

She giggled in the way all of them do, and we danced. I held her in my arms and danced the night away with her. We drank merrily, too, and that's probably what made us end up stumbling back to my room. It was, much to my thanks, empty. There I fucked a drunken woman, probably committing some other sin against God. But that's what being a Christian is all about, though, right? You ask God for forgiveness, and he gives it, and then you fuck up again.

At least, that's how I see it.


	4. Who Are You?

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews. As usual, I do not own the newsies, the titanic, or any historical people or events or... anything at all in this except the random passengers that you see. If they're on the passenger list, though, I don't own them. Also, if you read my other story (Bizarre Affections) you'll note Skittery there and Skittery here have mommy issues and are essentially the same. This is because he's the same guy, all grown up, without Anna. Also, this is a bit more like the Titanic film than I thought it was going to be, but it's still not a crossover.

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_This is Just the Prologue_

The whole ship ride was a crazy experience for me. I would never regret going to Europe, and I would never regret the ship. I know Spot and Racetrack did as soon as we heard it was sinking. It looked as if the life had been stamped out of them. Blink and I, well, we were scared. Of course we were scared. When you're told that a ship is sinking, doesn't have enough life boats for everyone, a rule of "women and children first" has been set up, and you're a third class male, of course you're going to be scared. It's almost natural that I automatically assumed death. That night, Blink and Race went to the priest to confess their sins. Spot didn't make any smart remarks about their confession or belief in God that night, either. He and I stood there, waiting for our doom out on deck. Years later they would say the third class passengers were locked down below. This is not true. Third class passengers often had a hard time with reading – whether it be because they'd never learned or because they didn't speak English. Some of the gates were locked, because we were meant to be away from the first class passengers. The White Star Line says they opened as many doors as they could, but there was a panic. I don't blame them, but I still think about those kids drowning in their cabins. But that's not what you want to hear about, at least not yet. This is my story.

_This is How it Happened_

I allowed Spot to drag me around the ship our first night there. I'll admit, I was completely nervous when he took a bath in a rich man's bath tub and put on his clothes. I refused to do any such thing; honestly, if the rich man... well, if he came back what if they imprisoned us or something? I was pretty sure there was something illegal about bathing in a man's tub. Eventually, Spot was so convincing with everyone that I wanted to be apart of it, too. I found something nice to put on and seemed to be part of the crowd. Everyone asked us where we were from and Spot had all the smooth answers. Originally, we were born in Queens. We're twins, you see, he would say. No, we're not really. I'm about five inches taller than he is, but we both have blonde hair and blue eyes. Maybe that's what made everyone believe it. My hair, though is a bit curlier and more unruly. Spot's seems to be perfect all the time. Yeah, you notice these things over the years. The entire time I was sure a pretty little number was staring at Spot. He was the one that ladies loved to stare at, after all. But eventually, I realized it was me she was staring at. I wasn't used to these things happening.

See, everyone always wondered why I was single. I was twenty-eight, and that was an age in which I should have had two or even three kids. I was the perfect example of a perfect husband. I had outstanding morals; I would never cheat on a woman or harm her in any physical or emotional way. I was great with kids; I had taught the children at the lodging house, back when I was a newsie, to read and write. I was someone you could count on for money and to pay bills; unlike Racetrack, I wouldn't gamble away any small fortune I had. I had never been to jail and hadn't committed a crime since I was a kid; I stole bread and other such foods from time to time as a child, but had stopped that behavior once I could afford it. So why wasn't I married? Why hadn't some woman come and scraped me up in fear that someone else did? Well, believe me, they did try. I don't mean to sound arrogant or anything, but that's the honest truth. Women have tried to date me, tried to get me to be more than just their erm... sleeping partner, but I've never answered. I guess since the sinking of the ship occurred, why not say it aloud, why I've never had a wife? I'm damn afraid. My dad beat my sister, my mother and I until I was about eight. My sister was ten and my mother left us one day without warning. I took my sister out to help her find a laundress job, and then... I suffered a few months. Eventually I found the newsies and was able to make my own living. I haven't trusted women since then.

So when this girl stared at me with a look of fascination in her eyes, and when I realized it was I she was staring at, I looked away immediately. Some women had the common decency to remember the ways of how it always had been; men went up to women, not the other way around. Increasingly, though, women were coming up to me and asking me for a date. Apparently the woman's name was Miss. Helen Whitney. Her family was famous for being involved in thoroughbred horse racing, and her father was an amazing business man. Racetrack probably would have fallen head over heels in love with her, it was a pity he hadn't been there to be gawked at. Spot went on, telling them his name was Wesley and mine was George. Why he'd picked out such a boring name for me, I would never understand, but he kept going. We were twins, apparently, and our father was a businessman who was involved in the oil company. He had invested wisely, and we had all lucked out. We moved out of Queens quickly, of course, and moved to Central Park in Manhattan. This was starting to get difficult to remember. Our father was William, and our mother was Mary. They were both very religious people, especially mother, who was so god fearing she took everyone in the family to church every Sunday without fail, no matter how sick any of them happened to be.

So the night began to end and the women and men separated. "Would you like to join us for some political talk, Misters Wendell?" a tall man asked us. I shook my head but Spot nodded.

"I think, dear brother," I said the last part a little too sarcastically, "That I will be heading back to our room now. I suppose I'll see you later." It was difficult to have this faux voice without any sort of accent, but it was there. It was odd to pronounce every syllable and not mess up once with a 'da' instead of 'the'. Spot seemed perfect at it, though. I was done for the night, though, and as he left with the other gentlemen I thought of my warm bed waiting for me. Smiling, I went towards the grand staircase – there was a place behind that would lead me to the decks. However, I was caught by the angel who had been staring at me previously. She was gorgeous in her lace and silk white dress, looking like a perfect, untouched maiden. "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm off to bed for the night. But it was very nice to meet you, Miss. Whitney." I was good at remembering names. And manners. I kissed her gloved hand and tried to get passed her, but she stopped me.

"You have the oddest accent, did you know?" she asked, curiously, a smile on her face. Helen was a beauty. She was a little taller than the ideal girl would be, around five foot seven. That was perfect for me, though, being about six foot altogether. Her blond hair made her look like an angel, for some reason. I always pictured angels with blond hair, probably because of church propaganda. Her eyes were brown, though, usually that was undesirable in these fine ladies. Women were so harshly judged, I found her eyes beautiful.

"I did not know, ma'am, but how rude of you to point out," I gave her a small smile, "Now, if you don't mind, I will be heading to bed now. I've had a very long day."

"What is it like in steerage, Mr. Wendell, and how in the world did you get up here?" She had figured me out. Just as I was about to ask why, she answered my thoughts. "I saw you board the ship in steerage, I saw them check your hair for lice. I suspect your – ah – brother is quite the same. So I suppose you have some explaining to do, don't you?" she smirked. "I've arranged for us to have a bit of time to talk, so why don't we take a stroll around the decks? If you don't mind, you ought to return those clothes. It's quite rude to steal, you know." she added.

Well, I really hated this woman. Who did she think she was? "Of course I was going to return them." I said coolly, and, with her in tow, I went to the room where I had taken them. I changed in the bathroom while she waited outside and I came back looking like myself in my trousers and beaten up shirt. I pulled my suspenders up. "What is it to you, Miss. Whitney, if I have a bit of fun or not?" I couldn't understand why she'd taken such time to notice a steerage passenger.

"Well, one, I don't think you're having one bit of fun. That was why I let your friend there go unharmed." she smiled. "He certainly was having fun. But you? You looked so uncomfortable. Like you, Mr. … what may I call you?" she asked him.

"You can call me Skittery. It's the only name I've got." I added the last bit when she raised her eyebrow at my name. I didn't go by my original one.

"Alright, Mr. Skittery it is, then. Two, I would like to have a bit of fun myself. I want to see how the other half lives, and I believe you can show me." she added.

So, with that, I had to take the dame down to the third class quarters. Nobody saw us at this late hour, and she seemed intrigued by everything. She was blackmailing me, but somehow, she knew I didn't mind her company too much. She would turn out to be the reason I wouldn't regret coming onto this ship, and she would play a big role in my life in the next five days.


	5. I Know Everything

**Author's Note:** I do not own the newsies, the titanic, or any other historical things written. I pretty much own nothing but Helen, though her surname is a real family's name... I'm not sure if they were wealthy at this point or not. I really thank Lyrical Ballads for their reviews and seriously suggest you check out their work – it's pretty awesome. Annnnnnd I cannot decide who to kill, I swear I have no idea. I don't think this is going to be more than ten chapters, so... I need to figure out soon, don't I? Haha.

~~~

_Spot's POV_

After I stopped working as a newsie and went into factory work, I still kept reading the papers. Rich people are creatures of habit; I learned this long ago. Going through their rubbish bins every day isn't a problem with me. It saves me a penny, and them damn things add up. Also, a great tip for anyone that wants it; go looking through rich prick's rubbish bins for clothes, too. They throw out things that are nearly new. I digress, though.

So I went in this nice suit, probably owned by one of the men there, to this smoke room. It was glamorous in a manly way, I wonder who'd designed it. Who had such a creative mastermind to build and decorate this entire ship? The carpeting was deep brown here, it matched well with the leather chairs. There were tons of them, tons of paintings that cost more than I could dream to earn in a year. Then we all sat down and began to talk. Everyone seemed to be on the conservative side of things. There was a fella here or there that would say something liberal, but most of them seemed like they liked what they called "the old way".

The upcoming election involved Wilson, Taft, Roosevelt and Debs. Nobody in the room sided with Debs, a socialist, something that scared many of the men here. Socialism would bring equality down through the system, meaning there wouldn't be this third class and first class barrier. Nobody would be better than anyone else, and even the most liberal man in that room didn't want that. I would have voted for Debs if I didn't know he was sure as hell gonna lose. Anyone who would vote for him probably couldn't read or had no means to get up to the voting station. Or they were smart fellas like me who thought, well, he ain't gonna win anyway, so I may as well vote for second best. I was gonna vote for Roosevelt, because, well, he was a pretty awesome guy when he was president before. He'd do an okay job now, right?

They went on like this for at least an hour, literally recanting the same thing over and over. Finally, though, they turned to me. "You know, I haven't seen the likes of you before. Or heard of your family name. When we dock, I expect a dinner invitation for myself and the missus." one of the older gentleman said. "But, say, where is your wife? I'd imagine you have a pretty little thing hungry for new money running around somewhere, don't you?"

This was the awkward part. How was I supposed to explain that, at twenty-eight, I hadn't been married? "Ah, well, I did have a beautiful wife," See, I'm good at improvisin'. I bow my head as if I'm quite sad. "I don't talk about it much, but she died about three years ago. We never had any kids or anything, but we made plans." Men are men, no matter of what class they happened to be. I knew they'd react the same way, and they did. They offered their condolences and moved on to a different topic. Men aren't like women. They don't get mushy and they don't want to hear the story about your dead wife, your dead daughter, or your dead son. If they heard about that, they might be exposed to something called _feelings_. Men didn't like that. Me? Well, I'd stared right in the face of a woman who was holding her dead daughter's body, a man whose son ran away from home never to be found again, and a widower, crying his eyes out in the streets. At first I felt bad, but when you got so much happenin' so often, you can't always feel. It's sad, yeah, but eventually it just hardens ya. It's natures way of protecting yourself.

The night came to a close and everyone went off to their rooms one by one. I waited, wanting to be the last one to leave. If they didn't see me heading off to the first class sections they'd be curious. When the last man said good bye, swearing Wilson would win the election, I nodded him off and smoke one of the free cigars. Then, something that was not typically of my nature, I stole about ten of them for Racetrack. I sputtered on the smoke the cigar produced and stubbed it out on the fine wood. That's what dem bastards get for bein' so high and mighty. It was fun while it lasted, but I would have to go back to where I belonged.

~~~ 

_Skittery's POV_

Helen was a pushy little dame and insisted upon seeing the third class accommodations. I don't know why I listened to her, in all honestly, I didn't care what the big wigs thought. Spot would be finished soon enough so the possibility of him getting in trouble was little to none. After this night we would just blend in with the third class passenger crowd. Looking back, I would never know why she noticed me of all people. I did know, though, that I enjoyed her company no matter how often I implored her to leave. She was a witty young woman, clearly of the new age. I found she was twenty-three years old and not yet married. Her parents were setting something up, but she had just finished getting a degree at a woman's college in the states. She would be engaged, surely, within months of arriving home to America had not the events occurred in the ship the way they did. I think the sinking of the Titanic was best for her.

"Why don't cha got a husband or somethin'?" I asked her nervously as I pointed to the dining room. There were no meals being served so nobody was in there. She went in, as if this was something she'd never seen before. She was a curious woman, a beautiful woman, an intelligent woman, the perfect woman. I had already begun to fall in love with her that first day, though I wouldn't know it until I reflected back.

"I went to college. Hood College in Maryland. It's rather new, actually. I think... I think it was built in 1893. Yes, that was it." she said. I learned quickly that Helen could talk a mile a minute.  
>"I've never heard of no rich family bein' from Maryland. How did that happen?" I paused for a moment. "What did you study?" I was interested in the progressive movement for blacks and women. When would women vote? Would they ever vote? When would blacks be protected from that damn KKK? I had so many questions about these things, but nobody ever asked me so why should I put them out there and sound stupid?<p>

"We're from Newport; that's in Rhode Island," She explained with a smirk. "I studied English; we mainly looked over books and such. I also perfect my French there." she added. "A little history, a little mathematics. Graduating was a big deal for me. My sister never wanted to go to college, you see, and then... well, my brothers obviously went. I had to beg my parents for years and years since I was fourteen. And then I was assaulted by the upperclassmen. I believe they call it 'hazing'. Well, that was awful. I never partook in it when I was an upperclassmen. I suppose being a Whitney doesn't mean much to them."

I had a headache, she really was a talker. I resented her for thinking I wouldn't know where Newport was. She may have had a fancy degree but I studied more than she could imagine; I know the entire map of the United States by heart. Who else can say that? I can vaguely point out European countries on a European map. I know where some places are in China and I can find Australia. I've read more books than I can count, and I studied the science of Darwin. American history is my strongest subject amongst the histories, but I could name a handful of British monarchs or French monarchs if asked, maybe even some Spanish ones. I doubted all her money spent did all that. What more did she learn than me? French? So what, where were all the French people I needed to talk to? That's how we started, I resented her and she was a stuffy little show off. Then, all that changed. I don't know when, or how.

When she said she'd be going for the night I walked her back up on deck. "I'd like to see you again." she said to me, "Why don't I come down to the third class decks tomorrow around one o'clock? Are you alright with that?" she asked, and I found myself nodding numbly. Why were we doing this? We couldn't be friends, we'd never be friends. She was from a different world than I was. She was at the top of the food chain. Me? I was at the bottom.

~~~

_Racetrack's POV_

I chewed on my cigar as I played poker with some men I didn't know. This was always difficult, you see, because I didn't know their tells. All my friends had tells. Skittery's leg would bounce up and down if he had a bad hand, it showed his nerves. Spot would get this look of anger on his face as if he were thinking 'how dare these cards challenge the king of fuckin' Brooklyn' and Kid Blink would hold onto his cards real tight as if he was hopin' somehow he'd change them. But I studied the men I played with, winning some a losing some in the third class. Then I started to get these guys. I played against four other men; two stereotypical Irish men – they liked to drink and they both had red hair, twins, probably – a Russian man, and an Asian man. I'll admit, I don't know much about Asians so I don't know where he was from. The Asian man was just like Blink, that's what gave him away. One Irishman took a drink when he was nervous, and the other tapped his free hand's fingers against the wood. The Russian had a good poker face, but you could see a hint of a smile when he was doing well.

So that night, I kicked all their asses. If you remember, I'd earned one hundred from the night previously. I was feeling generous so I split in in fourths with the boys. Would you believe I left that night with fifty dollars in my pocket? I'd won another twenty-five! I was the richest man alive, or I felt like it. I was damn lucky, and I couldn't help but think this ship was blessed, that I was blessed. Tomorrow I'd go to the service they held; God deserved my thanks after all these blessings he'd given me. Boy, was I naive. Well, I can't even really say that, can I? How was I to know things would end up the way they did?


	6. A Wonderful Night

**Author's Note: ** Sorry, I was on Spring break so I didn't update much. That's kind of ironic; I have plenty of time at College but no time during break. Well, expect regular updates again! Nothing better to do here. (; So I'm going to try and get things with Racetrack, Kid Blink, and Spot going a little more. I know I'm neglecting them, but the thing is that Skittery is the "serious" main character here, while the others are just... regular main characters? Anyway, here we go! Some of these things may make NO sense, but when you read the last few chapters you'll see why they're happening the way they are. I'm trying to put this together well. I do not own the newsies, the titanic, or historical figures thank you very much. Just the passengers who you do not recognize, though I do not own the Whitney family.

~~~~

_Kid Blink's POV_

I was never like Skittery and Spot in the aspect that I wanted to intrude on first class territory to see how the better half lived. I was completely content living in third class accommodations. Heck, it was better than I'd ever lived in before! I couldn't imagine Spot, Skittery and Racetrack being able to afford rent on an apartment for each of them to get their own rooms, but apparently, they did it. It still hadn't been better than this; I'd ridden the couch until the ship came to take us to Europe so I certainly knew.

See, when I lived in West Virginia I had a small little cottage. Not like those "cottages" them damn rich people got, but a cottage with one room, a kitchen, and a living room. I could swear there was more space in this room that housed four guys than in that cottage alone. It was a fresh new day – the 12th. It's odd that I would remember days, see, they usually pass by me like a blur. I remember the days on the Titanic, though, because we struck an iceberg on the 14th. I can count backward, believe it or not. Anyway, I'd already gotten lucky and was feeling great. The girl was the first I'd had sex with since Elizabeth, and man was it good! Those German girls really know a thing or two, I'd say. It was great, though, I guess the girl had gotten caught up with the beautiful ship and the glory of going to America. She didn't want to talk to me either, so see, I got off for free – in more ways than one if you get my meaning. Sorry to any lady who may read this, of course. I mean no disrespect.

I went to the third class smoking room and met a few guys. Racetrack was always trying to gamble, Spot was nowhere to be found, and Skittery was either reading or off somewhere. We usually didn't spend time together; we had each other for life! These people were new, fresh, ones we'd never see again! But when I saw Skittery walking on the deck with a woman whose left shoe probably cost more than my old house, I was in a state of shock. He was actually _smiling._ Skittery didn't do that unless he was reading, I swear. I had to investigate, so I casually went up to the erm... couple. "Hey, Skittery, how's it goin'?" I ask him.

He doesn't look pleased to see me. See, I could never tell Skittery's expressions. I just knew this was negative. I would have never guessed he was embarrassed to be seen with the pretty little rich girl. "Who is your beautiful friend?" I flatter her and she smiles shyly. I would have imagined such a reaction from her. She was rich, she was special, she had to act demure. "And why would such a lovely lady be with a rat like you?" I joked.

"Ugh... Well this is Helen Whitney. Helen, this is Blink. Yeah, yeah, I know that's not a real name but he don't got a real name, so..." he trailed off here.

"Whitney?" I asked, bewildered. Racetrack would probably ejaculate in his pants just by hearing that name. "The horse um... family?" he asked.

She nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Blink. So do you have any other oddly named friends or is this your only travel companion? I mean no offense, of course." She flashed her white teeth at me in a smile, and I thought about how all the girls I knew or had a chance with would never have white teeth like that. How had Skittery managed this?

"Uh.." Skittery seemed embarrassed, so I finished for him.

"Yeah, we got Spot – nobody knows his real name and don't ask him or he'll kill ya. And we got Racetrack whose name is Anthony but again, he'll kill ya if you call him that."

"Where did they get such names?" she asked, giggling.

"Well, Blink." I pointed at my eye. "Skittery 'cause he was so jumpy when he came to the lodging house at eight, Racetrack because he spends all his cash and times at the racetrack. Spot, well, we didn't get to know him until he was about twelve. We don't know the origins of his name, and nobody asks. He's a scary fella." I told her, some of my New York accent had come back with talking to the boys, but it came and went during those times.

"I'd like to meet them!" Helen said excitedly, apparently not daunted by the fact that I had told her about an excessive gambler and a violent man.

"Well, why don't you?" I asked with a grin in Skittery's direction. Skittery looked uncomfortable, but I didn't mind. We all loved to tease the poor bastard. "Come on, they're in the room right now... you've got perfect timing." And so I led an excited Helen and an uneasy Skittery to the room in which we lived. It wasn't proper for a lady of first class to be in a room with four men, but this lady didn't seem proper. She seemed intrigued by the looks of the room. When she entered, both Spot and Race looked at her and then to us. I just grinned at them and Skittery looked away. Helen seemed so curious; she touched things as if she couldn't believe they were real. She commented on how different things were, and then she finally must have noticed the two boys sitting on their beds.

"Hey, doll face." Spot smirked at her; he was shining his boots up, but his boots looked to shined up to be his own... they looked like the expensive kind. Probably stolen, but that was Spot for you. He never stopped stealing.

"Dis here is Helen," Skittery finally spoke. Maybe he realized he was being rude, because he certainly was. "Dat dere is Racetrack," he motioned to the left, "And dat dere is Spot." he motioned to the right.

"It's a pleasure meeting the two of you." Helen said kindly. "So are you traveling for business or for pleasure? How do four third class Americans find their way to Europe and then back again?" She was chatty, I noticed that right away.

Spot and Race raised their eyebrows; the two were awfully alike. "Uh... well I got enough money bettin' at the Sheepshead ta come ta Europe and den we worked dese odd jobs... den we played a poker game for four tickets." Racetrack shrugged, looking down at the old, worn, pile of cards he held in his hands.

"Why don't cha take a seat, doll face?" Spot asked, clearly flirting with the new comer. "Where you'se from? How's a goil like you get on such a fine ship? Guess you'se family does dis all da time, goin' to and from Europe and America, huh?"

Apparently she had some lady-like qualities, because Helen refused to sit on the bed with a man. "Ah, well not especially. My sister is married to the Duke of Norfolk." she shrugged, "And we come here to visit some times, to England I mean... not here in the Atlantic." She laughed. At twenty-two, why wasn't this girl married I couldn't help but wonder?

As Racetrack started talking to Helen I pulled Spot aside. "Hey, how's about you'se stop flirting with his girl, okay? Skits never gets a girl, you go find your own." It was true. Well, Skittery _did_ get girls. He just never wanted them. Spot laid off after that and Helen spent a good portion of the night playing a card game with Racetrack. She actually won once, by this time we had drinks and we all congratulated her on an amazing feat.

"Let's go dancin', shall we?" I asked everyone, and everyone seemed to agree. Well, except Spot who decided to wander off. I never knew where he went, but would later discover he liked to pretend to be a first class passenger. I would never understand why.

Racetrack danced with several girls – he was one of those guys the ladies liked, I knew that much. Skittery stayed with Helen the whole time, who was pulling the reluctant young man to the dance floor. I sat, drinking, not really in the mood for the whole dancing experience. I didn't want to fuck tonight, and I was really glad for Skittery... I could tell, somehow, that he liked this girl. I knew nothing would come of it – she was too good for him in society, unfortunately, but they could have one hell of a romance on board the Titanic.

~~~~

_Skittery's POV_

It was awkward running into Blink, and not because I was ashamed of him. No, I was ashamed of the girl I was with. Not the girl specifically, I guess just her gender. She was a woman, and none of the guys ever found me with a woman. We had been talking about politics and seemed to agree on a lot of things. She was very interested in black rights and so was I – she swore she would live to vote and I laughed at her. I promised her she wouldn't. Then Blink came by and at first, everything seemed awful. Liquor loosened up everyone and soon Helen was playing cards with Racetrack. She told him she could get him a new pack but he cursed her; how dare she insult his lucky pack of cards! We all laughed when she beat him.

Then Blink suggested we dance. At first I was embarrassed. I have two left feet, see, but then Helen was dragging me on the floor, kicking her shoes off and standing in her stocking feet. I stepped on those pretty little things a few times, but she was patient and we were laughing and she and I were slowly falling in love. Then there was a moment when our lips collided into a kiss and my heart felt like it was beating one thousand times harder than it had ever beat before, I thought the world had gone away, or maybe I had. Then I came back and realized where I was and what just happened. "I'm sorry." I told her.

"I'm not." she told me. 


	7. Taking Chances

**Author's Note:** So things are moving quickly, I know, but I'm trying to make it fit nicely. I really wanted to make this in ten chapters or less but it's looking like it may be fifteen or less. I own no newsie, no titanic passenger or the ship itself, and no historical figures as such. I simply own Helen, but not her surname haha, and the various, nameless people you will encounter here. We are on the third day aboard the titanic, meaning 13 April 1912. I'm really going to get Spot, Racetrack, Skittery and Kid Blink evenly placed once the iceberg hits.

~~~~

_Skittery_

After we kissed I took her back up as far as I could go. I felt badly for not being able to walk her back to her room like a proper gentleman, but her father would probably have a fit if he saw her with the likes of me.

There was something about her. She was beautiful, and that angelic look reminded me of my mama. I wanted to protect this girl; Helen, although she seemed to be in no immediate danger. My mom had been blond like her, petite, curious and funny when she wasn't frightened of my father. Helen was a woman who I respected, so even when I wanted to give her another kiss I didn't. Even when I wanted to ask her to see me again I didn't. She was the beautiful rich woman, and I was the poor servant below her. I had no business with her. However, as usual, she had the courage to say something that I wouldn't.

"Let's meet up tomorrow, you and I." And then she leaned in, pressing her lips against mine. I was hesitant at first, knowing that we could be seen at any moment. With the sound of the sea lapping against the ship, though, I couldn't help but fall into a calm state. Before I knew it we became a mixture of tongues and teeth and lips – I was being too rough with her and she didn't seem to mind – but I had to stop myself before we went too far. I assumed she had her virtue still. "Tomorrow then." And so I left the woman wanting more.

~~~~

_Racetrack_

I couldn't believe I'd seen Skits with the likes of a Whitney. I would have paid her to sleep with me, just to say I'd been in a Whitney. She was a pretty girl, but unlike my comrades Blink and Skittery, I wasn't looking to get laid on the ship of dreams. I was looking to make the most money I could. Thus far, it being the third day and all, I'd made two hundred dollars. Everyone wanted to play against me! They thought it'd be fun to see if they could beat the Titanic champ. Well, they couldn't, and that was a little too bad for them. Some times they got angry; most of the time someone calmed them down, but I'd earned a shiner from one bastard and given him a kick right between the legs for that. I was still handsome as the devil, for the record.

I received an odd invitation from a man who claimed to be a Mr. Wendell's valet. He told me he'd let his master know about my skills. Mr. Wendell, apparently, loved to gamble. He said he would bet me for everything I had. Now, I know that wasn't the best move to make. I only had about two hundred, and this would be chump change to Mr. Wendell if he had a fuckin' valet and was sitting in the high life up in the first class rooms. But I was never intelligent when it came to gambling, or the situations at least. I never knew when to stop, which was why in my twenty-seven years I've been broke much more than once.

I came up to the first class accommodations, led by the valet, to come to the man's room. I wondered why a fancy pants like him would want to play cards in his bedroom, but as I was led in the valet gave me a bit of a sneak peek. He told me about how the first class passengers had sitting rooms and some times even dining rooms to themselves. The tall, pale valet explained that his master had his own bath tub, sitting room, and bedroom. We would be playing cards in the sitting room. I took a seat and a glass of brandy, but I didn't drink. I'd never developed a taste for it, myself, and I never drank when dealing with cards. That was one rule. You could make silly mistakes in a poker game even a little bit tipsy. The maid took over the valet's job and asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink. I told her to get me a cigar and she brought the finest kind – the kind I used to steal from rich men's pockets when I was a kid.

I gladly accepted, lighting up, when a man came in. He was dressed in a neatly pressed suit, black, nothing out of place. His shoes were shined and his undershirt was as white as white could be. "Mr. Higgins, I presume?" he asked, and I noted a British accent. I wondered what business he had in America. The man held out his hand and I took it, shaking it as if I knew what I was doing. We didn't shake hands much back in my old town.

"Racetrack, if you'se don't mind. Nice ta meet ya, mista Wendell." I smirked at him as he pulled out his deck of cards. No way would I be touching those. "Uh... if you'se don't mind, I gots a lucky pack a cards here. I'd prefer ta use dem." I explained.

"Lucky cards? Would you mind if I checked them to make sure there isn't anything... untoward... about them?" he asked. I shook my head, knowing he thought I was trying to cheat him. He checked them and seemed to be satisfied. I never cheat, I got pure skill. Poker is the only game that I feel super confident about, thought. Sure, I think I'm good at the race tracks but there's about a 45 % chance I will pick the wrong horse. I'm 99% sure I will win a poker game. So we sat down on his fancy, plush chairs and I dealt the cards.

It was a difficult game, I give the guy credit. He had pure skill. "Well, this has been a good game, my friend, but unfortunately for you..." the man set down his cards, a pair of queens and jacks. I didn't make any sort of face at all. I was sweating. "I'm afraid I'll be taking your precious two hundred." he smirked, reaching to grab the cash in the middle of the table.

"Actually, sir, you neva bothered ta see what I got." I said. He sat back, spreading his hands as if to invite me to set down my cards. I did so, and his eyes widened. I got a flush. See, not many people understand poker. There's no way to be good at poker. There are just people that God smiles down on more than others. It's all about luck, see, and some people got it, and some people don't. I got good luck, that's for sure. "So.." I went ahead and took the four hundred which was probably chump change for him, though it was everything to me.

"You sure you didn't cheat, boy?" the man asked, his voice turning dark. The maid stepped out of the room and I could tell she was frightened.

"Yeah, positive." I looked at him straight in the eye. I didn't fancy being called "boy" as if he were my superior or something.

He steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair, looking at me consideringly. I knew he was my kind of man when he said the next words; "A rematch," and this time he dealt his own cards. I won this game – we each bet four hundred and wow, I was up to eight hundred dollars! I was on top of the world. I had one more day of this, before tragedy would strike.


	8. Getting Lucky

**Author's Note: **

It's so nice to see a new reviewer! Interesting point, Jemma, that is funny. I just thought of a random duke that would be impressive. I should disclaim now that I don't know a lot about this time period – I'm a history girl but mainly Medieval and Renaissance Europe – so I may not get everything right! In fact, I guarantee I won't. I have no idea what the weather was like, or what people were on the ship besides the Astors and Molly Brown. I don't want to use other names of people anyway, out of respect. I may mention to Astors and Mrs. Brown, however, simply because they're interesting and they're famous, so it's not disrespectful in my opinion. 

Right now it is the 13th of April, still. I should have clarified last time, Skittery's part was late April 12th. I know we saw what Racetrack was up to that day, but why don't we take a peek at Spot and Skittery? I'm so glad that you're all in suspense as to who is going to die. I'm having a difficult time deciding, too, but I do have someone in mind... it may change abruptly if I have a feeling. Anyway, I just want to send a big thank you to Lyrical Ballads for reviewing so much and keeping me writing, and of course I appreciate new reviewers too!

I own no newsie, no titanic passenger, and no ships. (:

Also, to comment, we're coming up on the 100th anniversary of the Titanic sinking. There's a special "Life" issue magazine about it, and it's pretty awesome. This 14th and 15th of April are going to be really sad, only because I feel such a connection with the ship. And um, well, obviously because of the huge loss of life!

~~~ 

_Spot_

I remember every day I was on the Titanic. I remember how it felt, being so excited to board the ship, living in the high life down in third class, and the fear that came when I found out what was happening. I remembered the 13th, though, the most, because I met someone very interesting. Mr. John Jacob Astor was well known to me simply because I had been a newsboy. His name appeared everywhere. I had no idea about his scandal – I was away when these two got married – the man could have been my father, mind you.

They were walking their dog on one of the third class decks. This happened all the time, though it was surprising that they were doing it themselves. Usually a crew member was walking this little rat-like dogs. I was never much for them. Why so small? What was their use? This dog wasn't too bad, I supposed. I couldn't help but stare at the rich couple as they walked down the deck as if they owned the place. And certainly, they could have if they wanted to. Last I'd heard, Astor was married to some woman called Ava. Yeah, you remembered these things after carrying the banner for more than ten years. So I suspected this woman was just a lady of the night – some entertainment.

"It looks like we have an admirer, John." the woman's voice was smooth and soft. She sounded as if she were the most innocent thing in the world. I had looked away quickly, but apparently not quickly enough. My arms were casually resting on the rail that protected me from falling off the ship, my eyes casually looking out to sea as if these rich people didn't matter to me. "What's your name, sir?" she asked kindly, and I was forced to look at her.

"Ah, don't bother the good man, dear. Curious as ever." he kissed her and she smiled, but turned back to me expectantly. So I wasn't getting off easily.

"Da name is Spot." I said simply to her, looking right into her eyes.

"Well, Spot! What an interesting name!" she exclaimed, and her husband chuckled. He seemed very taken with her. "I'm not sure if you know us or not, but -"

I hated how she acted as if I was stupid or something. "I knows who you'se is." I said.

"Well of course he does, dear, come along now. We don't want to bother him." he said, pulling her along with their dog. I could have sworn she winked at me behind her husband's back, but I didn't believe it until later that night.

The day was pretty uneventful, I gambled with a few men and actually won a couple rounds – this felt good after playing against Race all the time and nearly always losing. I swear the bastard's a cheat. I came back on the deck at night to relax a little. I had tried to get back upstairs to the first class area, but every entrance was locked up. That's why I had no idea how she'd gotten there, but Madeleine Astor appeared before me.

"Spot, was it?" she asked. I nodded calmly, wondering what a pretty little wife was doing out at about eleven at night. Shouldn't she be in bed, sleeping with her husband? She sat next to me, pretty close on the bench at this point. I knew what was happening – this was how women acted when they wanted, well... But Madeleine Astor? Yeah, I was always pretty fucking sexy but I didn't know how far that stretched until that night.

"My husband's off discussing politics with the other gentlemen. He's usually not back until well into the morning. Then he wakes me up." she smiled at me, "It's hard to sleep in a cold bed by myself, you know, even for a few hours... "

I swallowed. Was I seriously about to fuck this girl? "Well, if you show me the way I'm sure I can make you more uh... comfortable than your husband ever has." I smirked at her, and she smiled at me and led me upstairs to her bedroom. So she was married to him, that must have been scandalous. She was used to scandals, apparently, so fucking me should have been no problem. This girl was exciting, she'd be good for a night.

After the act, I laid naked in John Jacob Astor's bed. He was the richest man aboard the ship and I'd just fucked his wife. I got up to start getting dressed, but apparently she wanted more of me. I wouldn't blame her – damn, she seemed really into me.

We were just getting into it when I heard a door open. It was to the sitting room – one room away from us. We both paused, her hands were shaking as she pushed me off of her and mouthed the word _Go!_ I grabbed my things and looked at her as if she were crazy. Where was I supposed to go to? I booked it for the bathroom and made it just in time for Mr. Astor to come in. I heard his surprise that she was awake, and naked. She came up with a good excuse – waiting for him to get back. I had to listen to them fuck and wait about an hour after that to make sure Mr. Astor was asleep. I could have sworn Madeleine blew me a kiss before I left. I would never hear from her again, and perhaps that was the best part of being with a rich, married lady.

_Skittery_

"Isn't there someone who cares that you're out with me? Or that you're out at all? Doesn't someone wonder where you are?" I asked Helen at eleven as we walked the third class decks. It was a wonderful day, the second to last day on the Titanic that I'd see.

"Of course, but my maid's a good girl. She'll lie for me in a second, and they simply assume I'm with her. It's not as if they're peering over to look down at the third class decks. They'd rather pretend as if you didn't exist, anyway." she giggled as I frowned.

"So why do you want to be out with me this often, anyway? What's your benefit?" I'd studied people for a long time; they always had a benefit for an action.

"Why do you want to be out with me?" she retorted, smiling slightly.

Point well taken. I loved talking to her, I loved looking at her, and I was beginning to really love her. She was the most intelligent woman in the world. I was one of those people who said love at first sight didn't exist, but I proved myself wrong. I was starting to feel it, but I pushed the thoughts away. Love was such a silly thing and it wouldn't happen to me.

"Why aren't you with anyone?" I couldn't help but ask.

"I told you this already," she rolled her eyes. "My sister just got married and next they'll be looking for a suitor for me." she said the last part a little roughly.

I hated that she'd have a suitor, or probably had tons back in New York, or Rhode Island, or wherever her family lived currently. I couldn't quite place my finger on why that was at that point in time. "Ah, right, older sister first... then yourself." I cast my eyes to the side, looking away from her. "Do they have anyone in mind?" I asked. We were now on first class territory but since I was accompanied by a first class passenger I probably looked like her servant or something and was allowed up.

"Probably." she said shortly. "But enough boring talk!" she insisted, pulling my hand and leading me to different places. Occasionally she would point out things of interest such as the swimming pool, the gymnasium, the reading room... and eventually we were to her room.

"You live here alone?" I asked nervously. I'd never been in a girl's room alone, a girl who I cared about at least. I'd never cared about a girl, either.

"Yes." she said simply, looking at me in this way that... well, it told me she wanted me. I glanced around; the bed was so fine, the furniture perfect. I couldn't have afford this with a year's pay. She took me out of my trance when she placed a hand on my chest and began kissing me. That's all we did that day; kiss. It was so intimate, though. We kissed on her bed, even. I felt like I was getting to know her better through this act alone.

Later, I took her back to third class so we could dance again. She'd instructed her maid to tell her parents that she was sick. We danced the night away, kissing gently some times. I led her back the farthest I could take her towards first class. We were both flushed, both blushing, both nervous. She was slightly more confident than me, as usual.

"I haven't felt this way before." she said as we stood awkwardly; I hadn't expected this. I wasn't like Spot, but I didn't like feelings for girls much... it wasn't because I was a jackass like him. No offense to him, of course. It was just because... what if I got hurt?

"Me neither." I said awkwardly, but then I got scared. I walked away from her quickly, running as I heard her calling for me to wait. I went back to my room and slept, covering my head and trying to forget what had just happened. I wouldn't let it happen. It was happening.


	9. It's Sinking In

**Author's Note:** Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, guys! Well, it's awhile for me. This chapter takes place on the 14th of April. It's getting intense, but it'll take a few chapters to see who lives and who doesn't. Promise, things won't be too much like the film. It's creepy writing this nearing the 100 year anniversary... something ominous about it, I suppose. I jumped almost right into the sinking, I couldn't wait to get things going there... Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, or has reviewed in general! It's nice to know my work is appreciated. If you're reading and not reviewing, please do! As ever, I own no newsie, no ship, and no Titanic passenger.

~~~~

_Skittery_

She had me crazy for her. I would have done anything for her, I know that. She was a beautiful angel, and I knew all this would change in three days when we landed. I knew I was making a huge mistake. When the ship docked, she would go off and marry some amazing man that I could never match in wealth. I knew all this getting into it, but somehow I felt I could enjoy those three more days with her without having hurt feelings. Maybe I thought this wasn't like mama – there was no warning with her, but with Helen, there was plenty of warning! I could handle this. Looking back now, I knew I never could have. I would have continued my life as plain and simply as I had before, living in loneliness and trying to make a living for nobody but me. Europe hadn't really changed me. Being the silent type, I noticed it changed the rest a bit. Blink was finally happy. He had been so depressed what with his divorce and all. He was like a kid again, the kid that I knew who sang and danced. The kid who would go on a date with the mayor's daughter. Though, he seemed to know his place these days. Race was speaking a little more Italian than he had ever before, and starting to act like what one would imagine an Italian to act like ever since we'd been to Italy. When Spot said something he insisted it was simply his roots. Spot was a bit softer than he'd ever been – not so ready to just kill someone. See, in overseas territory the American government don't got nothing to do with you, and Spot was told as much after spending one night, a light sentence, in a British jail, after punching a citizen in the face.

No, what changed me, because we all change when taking long journeys, was her. I had never been able to fall in love before. Well, that was a lie, I had been able to fall in love before it just so happened that I kept myself from doing so. Maybe I hadn't found the right person. Well, I certainly had now. She made me laugh, she made the knot that constantly seemed to be in my stomach go away, and I was sure one day she would make me cry. She found me on the third class decks, sitting in one of the chairs provided. I looked up at her nervously – we hadn't spoken since I ran away from her. I wondered if she was angry, or something. It was hard for me to find her, though, so I was happy she'd come to me. "I'm sorry about last night." I said, all the while looking out at the calm ocean rather than her. The ocean was eerily calm, I remember thinking that afternoon. The water appeared like glass at some points, especially when it got later and there was only moon light to shine upon it.

She simply looked down at me and shook her head. "I don't understand you, Skittery," her mouth was pressed into a firm line. Judging by the purplish tint under her eyes, she hadn't gotten much sleep last night. I couldn't believe a first class lady would be so distraught over me. "I tell you something very personal... and you say you feel the same way. Then you just run away. Who do you even think you are, toying with someone's emotions like that?" she asked, clearly steaming. "You've not let me get close for all these days – I know it hasn't been long, but try and trust a little, Skittery! Have some faith in people." she went on.

I didn't say anything; I couldn't say anything. I couldn't say that I would ever have faith in people. "Come on." she said, taking my hand. "My parents are off to lunch, I suspect everyone else is, too. I want to take you to a more private place." I raised my eyebrow and she scowled at me. Soon we reached her bedroom, as majestic as ever, and we sat down on two chairs that were placed opposite of each other. I don't know how things went the way they did, but after some whiskey stolen from her daddy's cabin – not enough to impair me, mind you – I told her about my father beating my mother, my sister, and myself. I told her how one day mama ran away but she forgot two things; my sister and I. I told her about how I found my sister work and then I slept on the streets for a week, eventually deciding on being a newsboy.

She had sympathy. She kissed me lightly, though we both knew she would never experience what I did. "You're afraid I'll leave you." she said wisely. I nodded at her, and again, I don't know how things went the way they did but we eventually made it to the bed. Judging by the blood, this was her first time. I was gentle with her, and somehow I felt better as I laid next to her, sweat dripping off my forehead. We stayed like that all afternoon. We took a bath together, and eventually, around dinner time, we separated, planning on meeting around midnight. "You don't have to worry." she whispered as her parting words, kissing me before we went our own directions; she to the fancy first class dining hall and me to the third class one.

_Blink_

I hadn't done much that day except perhaps marvel at the beauty of the ship. I wondered how quickly we would get home. I wondered if I would have a job once I got to New York. I wondered if we four would be able to get an apartment together. I couldn't believe Race had won eight hundred bucks! That was the highlight of my day. Well, no, actually, I was wrong. The most important event was around 11:40pm. This was the moment that caused the nation to be rocked, everyone to be shocked, and people all across Europe and all across America to weep. Women with children would be found floating amongst ice. A ship would be investigated for being so very close to the Titanic but not helping.

I remember standing on the ship, for once in my existence enjoying a cigar. I only allowed myself about one a year – I swear there was something wrong with them. Maybe Race was lucky, but people in West Virginia died of them. Everyone called me crazy when I claimed that. Anyway, back to the story. I was standing with Race, both of us laughing. I couldn't believe he'd won this money! Beyond us, we could hear shouts, but we figured it was some third class passengers having had too much to drink. Later, I found out it was the call of most people's death sentences on that ship. We were getting close to something big and grey and I put a hand up to make Race shut up. It seemed the ship was trying to avoid it, because she was tilted away, but none the less she hit it. Race almost fell due to the impact, but I steadied him. My heart felt no good at that moment, I felt as if it was breaking. I knew what this spelled; I had heard first class passengers commenting on how there were very few life boats, but it still obstructed their view of the beautiful ocean. Some times they called it a waste of space. I knew some people would die tonight – no ship survived hitting an ice berg. I didn't believe in this unsinkable nonsense. Nothing was certain. I didn't realize how grave the life boat situation was, though, and I wouldn't for hours. Race and I looked at each other and ran downstairs to find the boys. I got the impression he didn't like what happened either, and I knew, for some reason, we needed to get the boys up on decks before anything happened.

_Spot _

I refused to believe them. "You all don't understand hydrodynamics." I'd learned that word upstairs with the first class passengers my night there. "Dis ship is unsinkable. If an ice berg hit it, I would bet all the money I've got in me pockets that we'll still make it back to New York safely. Everyone on this ship." I finished my statement and refused to move, even at their prodding. They all started dressing up warmly; anything they had that would keep the chill off them. I just smirked, knowing I'd be in a warm bedroom while they waited up on deck, freezing their balls off, before realizing there was no danger.

They all began to pile out after Skittery said Helen would be meeting him around midnight to let him up in the first class area. He stopped and turned to me, though, after the other boys left. "Come with us just to see what's happened. I agree with you – it's probably nothing. But let's just take a look see, why don't we?" he asked, but my answer was interrupted by a steward shoving his way into our room, calling for us to put lifebelts on and come up on deck. He shoved two white life belts at us and left, proceeding to the next room. That was when my stomach tightened, and I grabbed all my warm clothes and anything important to me; like that old key I still wore around my neck, even after all this time. We shuffled out and immediately took notice to the fact that Race and Blink had their life belts on. Skittery was fastening his, but I refused to do anything at that point. The ship wasn't sinking. Right?

Helen let us up towards the first class area, seeming quite nervous. She said the stewards told her parents and she that they would be boarding a lifeboat as a routine procedure and return by breakfast time. Her father and mother had refused to believe such nonsense and went back to bed, but Helen had overheard some things. She whispered that she thought the ship was _really_ sinking, her eyes wide with fear. Race and Blink looked at one another and went up to a priest who happened to be aboard decks, taking confessions for those who knew what was going on. The band was playing in the background, and I didn't much feel like poking fun of Race and Blink praying to their invisible man in the sky. Not now. Helen went off to try and convince her parents to leave their cabins while Skittery and I looked at the water.

"We're gonna be hittin' dat in a few hours, ain't we?" I asked him calmly. He said nothing, but I could almost feel him nod. We both swallowed, knowing this wasn't going to be any good. I could see my breath. "At least you know your pretty little dame will make it. See dem boats?" I asked as he nodded. "Well, I heard dem callin' for women and children first. That means women and children only." I spelled out our doom to him, having absolutely no hope that we would somehow make it. He didn't say anything, nor did I, and we just continued to stare into the water numbly. I finally believed them; we were sinking slowly but surely.


	10. This is Shocking

**Author's Note: **This has been fun to write, and you guys make it even more fun with your reviews. I'm excited to get the last few chapters underway, and I apologize for the suspense but I believe that's what makes a great story! I do not own the RMS Titanic, the Newsies, or the people on board the Titanic. Today, depending on your time zone, is the 15th of April, the 100th year anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. I went to see Titanic in 3D and it was amazing, I suggest you all do the same! Happy reading!

~~~~

_Racetrack_

After he took my confession, the priest told me to have faith. God would save me. I tried to smile weakly, but my faith in God was floundering just as this ship was. He took other people's confessions and I looked around me. Very few people seemed nervous. When the first lifeboat was lowered, not many people seemed interested. When the officer saw there were no more women or children available, he began to push men in with their sobbing wives or call for anyone who wanted to go in to go ahead in. I looked at Skittery, who was with Helen – she would not leave without her parents, and therefore, I knew he wouldn't leave. Spot wasn't moving from his position of staring at the water, and Blink looked nervous – as if he wanted to get in the lifeboat but didn't want to be the first one of the group to go. I felt the same way. So we stayed, and I watched twenty-eight people, I'd counted, be boarded into a lifeboat that I'd wager would be able to fit twice as many, at least.

The second lifeboat gave us all an unexpected surprise. Before it was lowered, Spot climbed into it. We watched in disbelief as he left us all on the ship. None of us would ever dream of blaming him, though. It was just odd that he, who didn't believe the Titanic was sinking, was the first of us to get into the lifeboat. I gave him a quick wave, but he didn't acknowledge me. Perhaps he realized that I might die that night. Perhaps he felt badly, because Spot Conlon had a damn heart. He would never say it aloud, but he sure as hell would miss Skittery, Blink and me if we were to be lost, especially Skittery and me, since we'd lived with him for years. Nobody said anything as we watched the King of Brooklyn help paddle the boat out to safer pastures. Everyone noticed that the ship was tipping at the end that she had struck the iceberg, but nobody said anything. I took Skittery aside while Blink talked to Helen.

"She has every chance of surviving." I told him. "You need to force her into a boat; maybe you won't make it, maybe her parents won't make it. But she needs to stop being such a dumbass about things. Her parents are stupid, and you're a man. It's unlikely that any of you will survive this. Why not just make her go on the lifeboat?" I gestured to the one they were currently loading up. I had no idea that we were lucky; the man on the other side of the ship wasn't allowing any men at all. He took the order as women and children _only_, not women and children _first_. So many men would die that night because of the misinterpretation.

_Spot_

Nobody could ever guess why I'd taken the lifeboat. I couldn't even understand it myself. Something inside of me told me that I should go. That I should run off this boat as quickly as I could. I could see the ship listing, and by the time they'd lowered the third boat on this side of the ship, I was ready. After the man called for more women and children, and none appeared, I climbed into the lifeboat with some other men. We were lowered into the cold darkness of the ocean. I looked at one woman with her dog in disdain. How dare she bring a fucking _dog_ meanwhile people would probably die. It was a good thing nobody had taken my bet before, and it was a good thing I didn't have anything to bet. Not many people would make it to New York who had boarded the Titanic, that much I knew. I don't know how I knew it, especially when people, mostly women, around me were talking about how there were many lifeboats – definitely enough for everyone on the ship. Everyone would make it, but who was going to rescue them, they asked themselves. I asked myself the same question. How long would we be sitting out here in the freezing cold, and would my friends make it off the ship?

_Skittery_

"You have to get on a lifeboat." I whispered into her ear gently. It was nearing one o'clock and her parents had gotten on a lifeboat, finally. Helen had refused to join them – they seemed like very absent parents to me, being that they left their daughter on a sinking ship willingly. Maybe there was another story behind it, but something didn't smell right to me. Anyway, she refused to get on without me. I couldn't understand her; we had just met! Why was she being so ridiculous? Of course, I knew if I had been in her position, I wouldn't have left her either. I had hardly noticed Spot retreating into the first lifeboat. I was too busy looking into those big blue eyes she had. I'd never loved anyone more... and we were in the middle of tragedy.

"I won't go without you, Skittery, I've told you this one thousand times." she stamped her little foot in protest. "I don't understand why this is so difficult to get through your head." she was trying to hide, I could tell, the tears welling up in her eyes. It was probably a difficult decision on her part; she could die for someone she thought she loved, she could possibly live with him, or she could leave him to die. But then, something extraordinary happened.

"Miss, come into the lifeboat." Officer Murdoch ushered Helen toward the boat, hovering over the edge of the greatest ship ever built. She shook her head, finally the tears poured out and she grasped my hand.

"No." she said simply, choking over the word.

Murdoch looked at a loss – of course he knew why she was in such a panic. She didn't want to leave her man behind – whether he be her husband or fiance, he was not sure. "Alright, both of you can come aboard. After that, you're the lot." he ushered them on.

"Wait, you don't have room for two more gentlemen?" I asked, standing firmly although Murdoch tried to push me in the boat.

"No, sir, we only have enough for two more people and that's pushing it." Of course, that was false, at least twenty more people could fit on the boat.

I looked at Race and Blink. Race gave me the nod of approval and Blink smiled at me, clasping his hand on my shoulder. "We're all going to be laughing about this tomorrow." he said, though he didn't seem to sure. "You shouldn't die for us, go." he said, and with more strength than I've ever witnessed Blink use, he pushed me into the lifeboat. My breath caught in my throat as I watched Race and Blink look quietly down at me. Would I see them again? I wanted to jump out but Helen held my hand tightly, and the ship began to lower.

"They'll be fine." she whispered, tears spilling out of her eyes as if she knew this may not be true. There were people, now frantic, aboard the ship, trying to get a lifeboat. What would happen to my good old friends? 


End file.
